


Things That Never Happened on the Lost Light

by Raspberry_Omega



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Fingering, M/M, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Transformers Plug and Play Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 00:51:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12923793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raspberry_Omega/pseuds/Raspberry_Omega
Summary: Magnus walks in on Rodimus and Drift pleasuring each other in Rodimus' office. The situation quickly becomes even more unprofessional.Now with illustration for Chapter 1.A series of stand-alone stories set in MTMTE verse, with minor alterations. Each chapter will contain a significant amount of interfacial action unless it is specifically marked in the headnotes to be otherwise. Most of the time, plot exists.





	1. During the Shore Leave

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter was written during a cold and fever and is admittedly awful. With the second and the third there was just the cold so, skip the first if you like. There won't be continuity issues.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus walks in on Rodimus and Drift pleasuring each other in Rodimus' office. The situation quickly becomes even more unprofessional.

coloured version

* * *

 

(Illustrated by myself. I think I'll ink and colour this at some point - still need time to work out the details of their models, my only source of reference being the comics. The colouring is probably going to take longer than is sensible, because I'm the sort of amateur ~~artist~~ who  ~~has a hard time telling teal from blue~~ prefers more practice with the definition of forms.)

* * *

 

Ink version

* * *

 

Magnus found himself somehow transfixed at the door of Rodimus' office because, the door was open and as such, a knock would be more of an attention-getter than an enquiry, and he would be intruding anyway; then there came voices from inside, which he could tell were Rodimus and Drift.

And it went like this.

'C'mon Drift, you are a legendary swordsmech, the macho type who just loves impaling things.'

'Rodimus, I've told you a million times, in berth I'm the opposite. I'm as much of a submissive as you are.'

There were wet friction sounds in and between their conversation.

'Somehow, ah- I think there's a way we can make this work. You know how to do a loop? The - unh...ah -'

'Of course. Used to do it- ah- all the time with Wing while -ah-- he trained me in Crystal City.'

The delicious little moans seemed to indicate that they had already been doing something rather pleasant. Magnus immediately felt his fuel running hot and convinced himself that the quick peek he was going to take was just for the sake of making out what was happening.

He stretched a datapad close to the far edge of the door and used it as a mirror to observe the scenario going on inside the office. The datapad got to the perfect angle and he could clearly see Rodimus and Drift both sitting on the edge of the desk with one leg hanging from it. Rodimus had his other leg loosely straddling Drift so that they could pull closer, lean in and kiss each other's lips. And the manner in which they were positioned exposed every inch of their intimate panels, which were both open and dripping hot.

Magnus had never seen either of their valves before. He had occasionally thought about them, of course, opticking their panel armour whenever Rodimus or Drift carelessly came into poses that left the beautiful curves of their thighs, hips and underside panels exposed and accentuated. As both were hotheaded combatants, the occasions where they were spotted with their frames positioned in ways to inspire fantasies were incredibly frequent.

Magnus had always had a lot of evil notions in his head, despite the tough, law-enforcing, no-nonsense old school mech he was. He'd very much prefer to clear his head and rid his mind of all that stuff, yet he found it a difficult task. The thoughts always came crawling back. There were times when he could only stop thinking about Rodimus' valve by starting to think about Drift's valve, and how he hated himself for those unspeakable thoughts.

But now this. To effectively demolish all the efforts he had taken to clear his head of evil notions, he had to walk in on the full view of both of their valves. And the view of those delicate equipments instantly triggered something long docile in his processor as he felt both his front and underside arrays starting to react. And the idea that those two who were putting on this show were the commander of the Lost Light and his highly-accomplished fighter third simply added to it. Still, what really pushed the building of desire above the line was that Rodimus and Drift were digitting each other gently but erotically. Transfluids were all over the rims of their valves, their digits, their thighs and hips, and all over the desk. Strangely, Magnus did not feel the usual urge to demand that they clean it up. The pressure against his front panel was alarming, and he held it back still.

'But I don't - mmh - I don't think it's a good idea,' Drift continued as he slid his digits a little bit faster in and out of Rodimus' valve. Rodimus squirmed and moaned, and extended the same courtesy to Drift, who in turn gasped in response. 'Ah- loops don't reach -ah, ah, cool it, Rodimus!'

'Alright,' Rodimus slowed down a bit.

'-Loops don't reach that deep.' Drift managed to finish a complete sentence so that he could continue to indulge in a series of sweet little moans.

But Rodimus was already pulling his digits out of Drift's valve and his frame away from Drift's touch. Drift groaned in dismay, but seeing Rodimus retract the orange-coloured front panel, his optics dimmed with lust.

Rodimus got off the desk, stood in front of Drift and spread Drift's legs further apart.

'I must warn you,' Rodimus said as he positioned his spike against Drift's entrance, 'I'm a screamer.'

'What, even when you're doing the spiking?' Drift chuckled.

'We're doing the loop, remember?'

'Oh, come on!' Drift took the chance while Rodimus was thinking up a response to slide himself onto the spike. As they had already riled themselves up so much, this was done in a slick, smooth movement. Both gasped as the sensation travelled through their whole frames in electricity and visibly danced on their platings for a split second. Drift had Rodimus right where he wanted him, buried to the hilt, and attempted to start riding, which was prevented by the way he sat on the desk.

'Drift, you-' Rodimus opened his mouth to protest, and found it immediately filled with Drift's glossa. He gave Drift a couple of particularly hard thrusts and grunted, 'I'm imagining a sword through your spark instead of a spike in your valve.'

Drift whimpered. 'If you keep saying the word valve, you might be surprised.'

'No way in the pits!' Rodimus pulled out half way and held completely still.

Drift perked himself up with both servos on the desk and started grinding into Rodimus, but that little friction was so far from what he wanted. 'Oh, come on!'

'Open your front.'

Drift obliged. As soon as Drift's spike was fully pressurised, Rodimus grabbed it and shoved a half into his own valve, letting out a loud moan upon finishing the move.

'It won't work!'

'Duly noted and ignored!'

With this Rodimus pressed into Drift with full force, sinking Drift's spike into himself as well.

'Ahhhhhhhhhh~!'

Drift was on fire, but managed to let out a scoff when he heard the sound Rodimus made. 'You sound like a dr -'

'Shut up!'

Under fair judgment, Rodimus handled the hard work pretty nicely, but somehow Drift had been right. The loop - the way they were doing it - determinedly could never allow hilt-deep.

'You're not long enough!' Drift complained.

'And you think you are?' Rodimus snapped back.

They seemed to never realise that one of them could turn around to make this work, even though Drift claimed that he had done a lot of loops before.

'Rodimus,' Drift sighed, 'let's just... make it two rounds. First you do the hard work, but no overloads, then I return the favour, and overloads.'

'You'll just ride into overload.'

'I promise I won't!'

'Why wouldn't you want the final overload to be yours then?'

'Look, it'll be fine, I have a lot in me. Even if I lose control and get sent over in the first round, we can still continue. But I don't' know about you.'

'Drift, we are not doing it that way.'

'You have a better idea?'

'Of course. You give me one this time, I'll return the favour the next time.'

'How about you give me one this time?'

They were interrupted by a sharp sound of armour retracting from seemingly nowhere. The rest of the crew were supposed to be on shore leave at this point.

Rodimus was quick to act. He pulled out and almost immediately shut his underside panel. Drift did the same before leaping off the desk and drawing his swords.

Rodimus aimed his blasters at the door and demanded, 'who's there?'

Magnus could feel his face platings heating up to a point as if they'd melt. He couldn't decide whether to quickly sneak away or walk in and face the music. But his spike had fully pressurised by this point and it would be impossible to squeeze it back and replace the panel armour where it should be. Imagine what it would look like if, in this state, he chose to march in there and tell them he had just arrived and would leave once he had handed over the datapads to the captain.

'If you don't emerge, we'll open fire,' Rodimus threatened. This was odd, because Rodimus was the 'I'm heading towards where the sound came from and giving the lurker a good punch in the face' type. Then he realised that this discretion came from the fact that both the commander and his third were feeling very guilty about how they looked at this point - unable to appear with their front panels decently closed, underside panels leaking through the armour, wet, hot and slick.

And Magnus had this wild evil drive in his processor that he just wanted to get in there, press them on the desk and spike the pits out of the both of them.

He was glad he remained in check, 'It's Ultra Magnus. I'll leave the datapads on the doorstep since - if, if you're busy.' And hated himself for the blunder.

'Just come in.'

Magnus stretched his upper frame in, and saw that both naughty submissives-in-berth were standing behind the desk with their heated panels perfectly hidden behind the documents and whatnot piled up on the desk.

'This has been all the time I've got,' he said.

Rodimus thought for a few seconds which might as well have been forever, before demanding, 'Magnus, get in here right now, or I go to your office later with a bagful of thoroughly squeezed energon chips and line your drawers up.'

The fiery desire between his thighs, together with a prudent decision to get away from all this, compelled Magnus all the more to ignore his captain and just disappear as fast as he could. Magnus changed into his alt mode and sped off the Lost Light onto whatever planet they happened to be on at this moment. He headed towards the opposite direction of the populace, into the vast deserted lands. He planned to hide into a corner and deal with the issue alone before he could return to the ship.

It had been hardly one minute before he realised how stupid this plan was, when he noticed from the mirror that two speedsters were catching up to him super quickly. Rodimus and Drift were so fast. How could he have forgotten?

Rodimus reached him first and did a little bit of a stunt. He leapt and completed the transformation sequence in the air before landing right on top of Magnus. Magnus did not brake. Drift came in just as fast and wedged in in front of Magnus, so he had to stop - he couldn't just turn and have his trailer sweep Drift off the ground.

'Rodimus, get off of me,' Magnus sounded stern while he apparently quoted Starscream somehow. 'You two have a good reason for chasing me like this? I said I'm busy.' He remained in the alt mode to avoid further embarrassment.

'We think you saw something,' Rodimus said in a 'therefore I'm afraid I'll have to murder you' tone.

'I don't know what you're talking about,' Magnus had to lie to not let this become something even worse, and he hated himself so much for lying.

'Ah, really?' Drift changed back to root mode and raised his right leg so high he had to rest the pede on Magnus' windshield, and by doing this his underside panel faced Magnus in a rather straightforward view.

In a mixture of indescribable sensations, Magnus watched as Drift blinked one optic, underside panel retracting beautifully. A close-up to Drift's valve. It was so sweet, delicate and erotic. Warm fluids traced down Drift's left thigh as one of his servos reached down to digit his own valve. And he digitted it in a rather theatrical manner, moaning so often and loudly, optics squeezed shut, frame squirming and trembling to the rhythm of his own digitting. And there was so much, so much fluid. 'I'm- ah- ah, pr- pretty sure - mmh - you saw something of- unh, oh...ah- this... this quality. ah...' Drift said breathily.

Magnus was absolutely certain he groaned, but the revving of his engine was so loud it couldn't be heard.

'No way, Drift!' Rodimus leapt off Magnus, knocking Drift to the ground. Drift gladly obliged in being pinned down as Rodimus quickly opened his front panel and spiked into Drift hilt-deep.

'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAah, finally, Rodimus!' Drift held onto Rodimus' waist, pedes kicking around as Rodimus passionately slid in and out of him. Electric charge danced through their platings and armour as they ground into each other at a pace their frames so eagerly agreed upon, moaning, groaning and whining with pleasure.

Well, Drift's delicate valve had had a lot already - Rodimus' digitting and looping in the office, and his own digitting in front of Magnus, and right now Rodimus' rigorous spiking to an increasingly rapid rhythm. By no means was he to last much longer.

'Drift,' Rodimus groaned, 'you- you so deserve - unh...- this.'

'Sure, com..ah - ! commander, I... ah, ahhhhhh...' Drift squirmed, rocking his pelvis, helm jerked back, his finials drawing patterns in the sand.

'I'm only doing th- aaaahhhh, ah, this so you, unh, oh...ah, you can't conti...continue - unh, seducing Magnus. He's mine. Ah,...'

'Ah, whatever,' Drift was too pleasured to care. Deep inside his sweet, juicy valve an incredible heat had built up to the point that everything in his processor became dizzy and magical. His spike was being rubbed between the platings of their abdomens, the friction driving him crazy, in addition to the fragging in his valve.

He was so close. 'I...ah.....ah, ahhhhhh think I'm getting...unh-, what I ahhhhh - ! I wanted anyway.'

Rodimus suddenly closed a fist around Drift's spike, squeezed it a little and pressed hard on the tip.

Drift lost it. 'Ah, ah, aaaaaaaaaaaah!'

Rodimus held himself back as he overloaded Drift. Their fluids had already formed a pool under there. As Drift fell into recharge, Magnus changed back into his root mode, only because his overpressurised, oversensitised spike made it difficult to stay in the alt mode.

Rodimus had the tip of his glossa held between his lips expectantly while his optics focused on Magnus in a predatory grin. There was something about this expression, a kind of irresistible beauty, which Magnus' processor immediately issued an override to prevent himself from indulging in. It was not as if in his wildest dreams and daydreams Rodimus had never overtly seduced him. But then the Duly Appointed Enforcer was not on this expedition so that he could get it on with the captain now, was he?

Rodimus then realised that Magnus was starting to walk away from the situation.

'...Uh, Magnus? What are you - ?'

'Rodimus. I'll pretend this never happened - I didn't witness all that. So just leave me be.' was Magnus' reply. The usual deep resonance of his voice had a lot of tension and uncertainty to it.

'Huh. Hah. Joyless prig,' Rodimus snorted, 'Although, I really can't overlook the fact that you did stay and watch me interface with Drift while you could have simply driven away.'

Magnus turned around to face his captain, optics flaring with indignation, 'Excuse me?!'

'Just admit it. Even the no-nonsense lawmech is sentient. We want what we want. Besides,' Rodimus took a step forward towards Magnus, the curve of his lips sending a chill down the strut of the other mech, 'where is it written that you are not allowed to bone your commander?'

It might be the pose. Or it might be the curled lips. Or the scent of the fluids. Or the pent-up desire. Or simply the idea of 'plowing your commander'. Anyway, Magnus made his decision.

Rodimus barely realised what was going on when he got lifted off the ground by a pair of giant servos around his tiny waist. Magnus flipped him into the space between his neck and one massive shoulder as he carried him further away in the direction along which the three of them had done that chase earlier. They came across this rocky surface with the correct height from the ground and shaped a little bit like a chair, which Magnus seemed to have been looking for. He carefully placed Rodimus on it and gently pressed those perfect thighs apart.

'Magnus!' Rodimus' optics shone with excitement.

'I'm going to have to request that you be quiet, captain.'

'Oh...mmh, alright,' Rodimus' underside panel slid open to reveal his valve. The beautiful thing had a similar colour scheme to his frame, with bright yellow bio-light stripes spiralling along the rims. The mesh was soft and juicy, the lips swollen and soaked in fluids. It was everything Magnus had ever fantasised about and more.

He began by tracing a single digit along the whole length of the valve, brushing through the entirety of it, while Rodimus shivered at the sensation. The lips seemed to be kissing his digit lovingly.

'Mmmh, Magnus, could you just...'

'Please don't talk.'

Rodimus nodded. He was afraid that Magnus might snap out of it and change his mind at any moment. He had no idea how deep his SIC was in this already.

Magnus slowly pressed one digit into the opening. The digit was embraced by a whole lot of warmth and wetness as Rodimus' valve involuntarily clamped around it. Magnus was losing his mind as quickly as Rodimus was. He probed around inside Rodimus, who moaned every time he made a move. He gradually ventured further, with gentle, circling movements. Magnus' digits were huge, given the size of his frame, and each one of those was as big as the spike of a mech in Rodimus' weight-class. As Magnus' digit was knuckle-deep, he tried a little to-and-fro moves before he could insert a second digit to further prepare Rodimus.

Rodimus bit his lips and let out a whine. 'Magnus, I...' He seemed to suddenly recall that he had been told to remain silent. So instead, he wrapped his servo around his own spike and -

Magnus only realised what had just happened when it already had. Rodimus ejaculated into his face when he was focusing on preparing Rodimus' valve.

Rodimus gave him a sheepish look. 'You told me not to talk. I couldn't tell you I was close.'

For a moment, Magnus did not know if he was displeased or delighted. 'It was that good?'

'I don't think it was about what you were doing,' Rodimus was blushing like he'd never seen before, 'It was about you. Because you were the one doing it.'

Magnus nodded, then leant forward to place a kiss on Rodimus' lips.

'Let's continue, Magnus,' Rodimus slightly rocked his hips, 'I still have a lot in me.'

Magnus inserted a second digit. Rodimus spread his legs even further apart to better accommodate Magnus' digits, and Magnus held one of the orange thighs still with his other servo. He felt like pleasuring the enticing valve a little more but, thinking of how Rodimus had just lost one from the simplest digitting, he decided to prioritize getting Rodimus to relax his valve above giving him more pleasure.

Fluids were gushing out of Rodimus' valve now as Magnus began scissoring with the two digits inside of him. Rodimus' moans were not giving Magnus an easy time, and the big mech was doing his best holding back from exploding in this stage.

A third digit found its way in and Rodimus was stretched rather nicely. He whimpered a little when a similar to-and-fro movement started in there, slick with the excessive amount of lubricant.

'Just ... don't let your own servos near your spike,' Magnus warned.

'Duly noted -ah- and registered,' Rodimus replied, optics shuttered as he indulged in the pleasure of riding Magnus's digits. 'I can take you now,' he said in the breathy voice he could manage, 'I'm ready.'

Magnus gently removed his digits from Rodimus' valve and positioned his spike against the entrance. Tentatively, he nudged the tip in, and was completely taken aback by the incredible sensation. Both mechs gasped and moaned, intoxicated by the waves of charge that shot through their frames and danced across their armour and platings. Magnus eased himself in at a very slow pace, wary of any chance that he might hurt his lover, who was a lot smaller in size. Rodimus somehow showed no such sign, as far as Magnus could tell he was completely wrapped in joy and even a little bit impatient.

'C'mon Magnus, just jam it in, awwwww... C'mon...' Rodimus purred. Seeing as he had indeed hardly met with any resistance in that incredibly resilient valve, Magnus finally obliged, and quickly proceeded until he was all the way in.

Rodimus yelped from surprise, the shutters on his optics snapping back to reveal the pair of bright cerulean blue orbs now burning with the lustre of lust. 'Ah frag, Magnus, this is just... oh,' he lost his words and his frame started squirming.

Magnus placed his massive servos on Rodimus' waist as he began sliding in and out. The pace was initially gentle while it grew faster and stronger with the lapse of time and the building up of the heat. It was so good. Rodimus was wrapped in pleasure, the wheels on his arms rolling to and fro on the rocky surface beside him, while his pedes kicked around, denting Magnus' thighs. Magnus couldn't bring himself to care. With each thrust Rodimus could feel the multiplied sensation of a thousand sensors being triggered along the insides of his valve tunnel and it was driving him insane.

Magnus wanted to just offline his own optics for a moment - the sight in front of him was obviously too much for him. Rodimus enjoyed their interface immensely and the captain was not the type to refrain from displaying whatever he felt on his face. The beautiful curves of his frame, the gorgeous features of his face, his panting, moaning and squirming - Magnus had enough reason to let go just from looking at all that. And his spike was buried hilt-deep in there, squeezed and pumped by the dripping hot tightness, and he couldn't control it when the rhythm picked up and he found the both of them groaning and moaning in perfect sync.

Fluids smeared Magnus' groins and a large proportion of his thighs. As he spiked Rodimus with increasingly powerful moves, each pull brought out more liquid from the captain's sweet valve. Rodimus' moans became even higher-pitched and more erotic as the thrusts went from hard to frantic, and they both knew where they were about to arrive.

'Oh Primus!' Rodimus held his spike with both servos as overload swept over his frame, and the moment hot transfluids shot from the tip of his spike onto Magnus' chassis, his valve twitched and constricted. Electricity bounced across both of their frames. Such additional stimulation instantaneously sent Magnus over as well. Hot loads of transfluid filled Rodimus' inside. They continued with a few thrusts to ride out the sensation, panting heavily with satisfaction.

Magnus placed another kiss on Rodimus' lips before pulling out. They took a moment to seal their panels and make themselves decent before heading back to the Lost Light.

'This never happened,' Rodimus winked at Magnus, mischievously mimicking his previous statement, 'and I'm sure it will never happen again.'

Without giving his Second the chance to respond, he transformed into alt mode and sped off towards the ship.


	2. Manoeuvres and Finesse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In an attempt to have Swerve's bar license legitimised, Rodimus challenges Magnus to a duel with sparring swords, thinking he has the edge of Drift's coaching. He is going to learn it the hard (not at all figurative) way.

Rodimus used to think that the legends of the swordsmech were merely about the power of the Great Sword itself.

Since he started training under Drift's instructions in the art of sword fight, not a solar cycle passed without further awareness of the errors in his previous presumption.

During the first training session, Drift managed to evade all his attacks while every one of Drift's strikes was a hit. Rodimus had to admit it was a huge blow to his ego, too, when it dawned upon him that he was indeed, not as good at fighting as he had always thought.

Rodimus made fast progress in the following sessions. Both of them were keen on the prospect of the combination of real combat skills and the commander's defining fearlessness.

But Rodimus was Rodimus. He would probably die before he quitted showing off, not to mention that the opportunity of showing off came in the form of a challenge. Both his favourite flavours mixed in one piece of candy. There was absolutely no reason for him not to take a bite.

  
It all started when Magnus barged into Swerve's bar that weekend and dumped everyone's cheerful mood into stasis by announcing that his license was a fake. Of course it was! Rodimus had signed that license himself, forging the signature of 'Ultra Magnus, Duly Appointed Enforcer of the Tyrest Accord'. In hindsight, Rodimus really hated himself for not signing it as someone other than Magnus - how had he not thought of the chances being the highest that one's attention should be drawn to a document signed by himself which he did not remember signing?

Magnus was angry when he found out Swerve was using a fake license, furious when he found out it was faked using his designation and title, and completely off the handle when he found out that it had been his captain and commander behind this whole lot of folly.

'Rodimus, I'm revoking the license, shutting down the bar and looking forward to the day you finally grow up!' Magnus slapped the license on Rodimus' desk.

'You are not doing either of the first two things,' Rodimus had his brow ridges squeezed together, 'If we wouldn't allow our crew some occasional fun, they'd all turn out like you. Honestly, just ask yourself, does anybot in the universe have the capacity to suffer a shipload of Ultra Magni?'

So this was what happened when Rodimus was equipped with a little bit of finesse. He became versed in the trade of talking you into his nonsensical logic until his stamina outran yours. He was the one mech with flames on his chassis anyway.

'Alright, how about this. We both know that neither letting Swerve keep his bar nor forcing him to shut it down will mean any change to the ship in terms of lawfulness or lawlessness. I believe the captain has a say in this and, since we cannot successfully persuade each other by any means - '

Magnus knew he was back on dealing with what had always been the moment he spotted the childish glitter resurfacing in Rodimus' optics.

'Let's settle this with a duel.'

  
So there they were, on the platform with a transparent dome where stars could be seen flashing by, both having a sparring sword in their right servo.

Drift was surprised that Magnus would agree to such a thing. Rodimus was thrilled that Magnus had agreed to such a thing. And Magnus knew exactly why he had agreed to such a thing.

He was done letting Captain Spoilt Kid have his way all the time. Perhaps a little lesson to remind the speedster that whatever record you could have set would never be valid unless you had been racing inside the tracks.

'Allow me to have the rules explained. As you two are considered to be in, apparently different weight classes, we apply the universal sparring point system. A piercing move that hits the spark chamber armour from either side or the helm at any angle is considered a critical hit and that's nine points. A hacking move that hits the helm or a piercing, hacking or slicing move that hits the neck cables is six points. A piercing move that hits the platings above the transformation cog or a move that disarms the opponent of the sword is three points. Any other hit is one point. The first to accumulate twelve points is the winner.' Drift announced as he stationed himself on top of a pillar in the middle of the platform.

Rodimus thought he was so going to win this when he initiated the first assault, diving in headfirst with the tip of his sword aimed at Magnus' helm. He didn't think for a moment someone as big as Magnus knew how to manoeuvre.

Magnus simply sidled to dodge his attack and took the opportunity to slide his own sword along the back of Rodimus' neck. Had that been a real sword, Rodimus would've been sliced senseless already.

Magnus was Magnus. You never knew what he could do until he did it.

'Six points for Magnus,' Drift announced.

'What the - ?!' Rodimus was taken aback by disbelief. He pulled himself together and launched a second round of attacks. This time Magnus simply knocked the sparring sword off his servo. Magnus was even holding back.

'Nine points for Magnus,' Drift announced. At this rate, Rodimus was definitely going to lose the duel next time he tried a move.

Then and there, Rodimus decided he needed to be a hero for the sake of Swerve's bar. He was no good at sword fight, but he was going to win.

He still began with the straightforward diving move since he believed that if you wanted to impose surprise, best have everything else set up as normal. Right before he came within Magnus' radius of attacks, Rodimus let out the world's most innovative battle cry,

'Magnus - ! I AM PREGNANT!'

Drift almost fell from the top of the pillar.

Magnus was efficiently stunned as his processor went stuck trying to make sense of all that. And before you knew, Rodimus scored a CRITICAL HIT.

'Nine points for Rodimus,' it was all Drift could manage not to allow the laughing to mess up his equilibrium again.

'Seriously?' Magnus' characteristic scowl deepened.

'For the record,' Rodimus trotted around a bit, 'I'm not a carrier.'

Damn it don't you think I knew that even though - ? Nevertheless, Magnus was generous enough to overlook that. Rodimus could only play that trick once anyway.

Honestly, Magnus was a bit indignant that Rodimus should be joking about such a thing. He sensed the amusement being drained out of the whole duel thing as Rodimus' petulance was being proven to know no boundaries. Therefore, Magnus made his first initiative move against Rodimus. It was perfectly balanced in offence and defence, and would certainly guarantee a hit, unless the opponent...

Unless the opponent played foul again.

Rodimus stretched out three digits, inserted them into his mouth, sucked them, and moaned like there was no tomorrow.

Magnus felt a twitch beneath his front panel and before you knew, Rodimus had a total of ten points.

Yes, he blew the chance earned by his foul play to score a three while Magnus was completely distracted. He got a little bit distracted himself and hit Magnus' panel cover.

'Dude, that move was dirty!' Drift yelled from the top of the pillar, 'but still, one point. Ten points for Rodimus!'

It was really ironic that striking your opponent's panel cover was dirty while scoring by seducing his nerves was not. Magnus glimpsed upwards and realised for the first time that the damned judge liked drinking Engex in that damned bar as well.

Magnus recollected himself, cleared his head and pulled his focus again onto combat. Alright, don't look at Rodimus' face, don't listen to what he says, just bring the tip of the sparring sword into touch with his spark chamber armour and all these unruly kids can kiss their illegit drinking den goodbye. Magnus launched his final blow.

Rodimus had the same curve going on at the corner of his mouth again. This was not good. Then there was this sharp retracting sound. Rodimus traced his left servo down, and parried Magnus' attack with the sword in his right. And before Magnus could think of bettering Rodimus with sheer physical strength, he saw what Rodimus was doing. Rodimus had his digits stuffed in his own valve, sliding in and out, as he locked optics with Magnus. He was definitely winning this.

  
Magnus forfeited, having had enough of Rodimus' shenanigans. As there was no lock on the door onto the platform, Drift was made to mind the entrance - Rodimus promised the same service in return next time.

Rodimus was all too eager, once Magnus had prepared him with glossa and digits, to be lifted and placed in Magnus' lap. He eased himself onto the huge spike inch by inch, each movement easier than the previous as more fluids leaked from his juicy valve.

'Ah - Magnus,' Rodimus was just so accustomed to calling out the big guy's name whenever things felt good. Magnus watched as Rodimus' frame squirmed and bounced with each move of his passionate riding, blushing the whole time, his own spike receiving wave after wave of overwhelming stimulation deep inside of Rodimus' heated tightness.

Everything was dreamy. Beyond the transparent dome of the platform, there were sporadically dotted stars against a canopy of evernight.

Magnus took Rodimus' spike in his servo and roughed up with it a bit to give Rodimus the first overload of the evening. Rodimus was never easily satiated. Between the heavy in- and ex-venting he somehow found himself ready for another round.

'Has there ever been a moment in your life when you don't want it?' Magnus teasingly planted a series of kisses from Rodimus' strut to the back of his neck.

'Not while you are around with your big spike and all - ' Rodimus smirked, then kissed Magnus' lips.

It was a blatant lie. At least Magnus knew that Rodimus had been berth hopping a lot before the ship was named the Lost Light. And berth hopping with Drift since then, too.

Still, there was nothing Magnus could do to resist this incredibly beautiful mech with fiery characteristics, imprudent yet charismatic, ferocious in battle, dauntless against danger and unabashed with desire.

Pressing Rodimus down to a bent over position, Magnus wrapped an arm around the smaller mech's abdomen to further support him, as he began the second round by pushing his spike all the way into the slick, hot valve. Rodimus let out a loud, pleasured moan, followed by a series of delicious little sounds as Magnus' other servo covered his mouth in an attempt to quiet him. His valve was oversensitised from their previous romp and every single move Magnus' spike made in there was edging him. He could easily lose another.

'Magnus,' Rodimus was unfocused, the sensation in his valve washing over his whole frame, 'show me your full force. Don't hold back any more.'

Magnus nodded. And things began to overheat.

Rodimus had to press hard into the floor with both servos to hold his upper frame in place. In his sweet valve, the power of the thrusts was building, at a pace much to his liking, as he found himself grinding back to meet up with Magnus half way.

'Captain, please do your best to keep it down,' Magnus said between an in-venting and an ex-venting. He removed the servo from Rodimus' mouth, because he needed it for pleasuring Rodimus' spike. He made sure this only happened when they were both close.

A few particularly hard thrusts, a giant servo that could easily stimulate the whole length of his spike and play with the tip at the same time, and a purring voice whispering loving compliments into his audials, were all it took to overload Rodimus this time. He cried out as transfluids shot out of his spike, his valve clamping around Magnus' spike, suddenly so tight and pulsating, and Magnus all too willingly let go as well. Rodimus' frame trembled as he felt Magnus' transfluids filling him to the brim.

  
Magnus made good on his promise.

  
'So, you are saying that Magnus was so awed by your manoeuvres and finesse that the first minute into the duel, without either one of you scoring any points, he forfeited and declared you the winner?' Swerve was rather confused by the version of the story as narrated by Rodimus.

'That's the gist of it,' Rodimus grinned.

Anyhow, Swerve got his license back and was too happy to care if Rodimus had played foul.


	3. Perfect Sync

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodimus and Drift discover creative use of the holomatter projector.

Drift greeted Rodimus in the hallway, who had Brainstorm in tow. The scientist appeared a bit dissparkened, and his usual energetic vibe did not radiate any more.

‘May I enquire?’ Drift was cautious, seeing how down Brainstorm’s mood seemed.

‘Things are fine, Drift,’ Rodimus’ reply was certainly intended for saving Brainstorm from any further embarrassment, ‘I just bailed him from the brig after Perceptor filed a complaint that his current project was being interrupted by his colleague’s unexplained arrest.’

‘What does Magnus have to say?’

‘He said it was confidential, and he has declined to disclose the details for the sake of -’

‘Roddy, may I go?’ Brainstorm’s blushing was visible through his battle mask.

‘Sure, if you wish.’

  
And the latter half of the conversation came up when the Captain and his Third were in the Energy Centre refueling together.

‘So, Magnus actually arrested Brainstorm, huh? Do you, maybe, think the Enforcer has become a little bit, erm… worse, lately?’

‘Actually, no. Magnus won’t tell, but I know. It was for good reason.’

‘What?’

‘Let’s keep this between us,’ Rodimus was excited as ever when he was about to tell a secret that he had sworn to keep - that mischief visibly flickered in his optics, ‘you remember the last time Brainstorm was caught by Magnus?’

‘... He was… fragging a gun…? Or something like that?’

‘I had quite a little bit of a debate with Magnus on whether “a workshop is a public space when the door is open”.’

‘Brainstorm got off that time though.’

‘This time it was worse.’

From the look on Drift’s face, Rodimus knew he had inspired greater evil in Drift’s helm than he had intended. ‘This time - he was caught fragging a cannon?’

Rodimus calmly responded to the limits of the swordsmech’s imagination with a facepalm. ‘Nope. It was that Holomatter project, you know.’ Rodimus leant in and whispered, ‘with that thing, you can practically frag anyone you want -’

‘Whoa!’ Drift almost twisted his fuel line, as an obvious raise of temperature was spotted on his faceplates.

‘You are definitely thinking of something, or someone, I can tell,’ Rodimus curled up his lips.

‘Roddy - ‘

‘Go on, I can play anyone you like. I’ll project an avatar that looks exactly the same as that someone - I’m guessing Wing - and navigate him into your quarters.’ Rodimus flew a kiss his way.

‘Quit it, Rodimus. Others are here. Your brand of a captain could use some extra respect - a lot, in fact,’ Drift’s faceplates were on fire for what he was actually envisaging (of which Rodimus had not the vaguest idea yet), ‘besides, it'd be creepy that the real you would be in the lab humping the air.’

‘We can borrow the machine and move it to your quarters, or mine. I’m sure Brainstorm won’t mind. He sort of owes me a lot since he doesn’t seem to often remember to lock the door to his workshop when, you know - wait, humping ... the air?’ Rodimus eventually got the idea that had got Drift all on and blushing and it was very evil indeed.

  
Magnus seemed to find the scene more confusing than tempting when Rodimus ushered him into the captain’s quarters, Rodimus having a ribbon bow knot tied around his waist, above the hind.

‘What does this mean?’

‘It means I have the perfect aft,’ Rodimus slightly rocked his hips.

‘Well, I’m sure you do. Why am I here?’ Magnus frowned. And that was on top of the frown that he wore all the time. The moment he stepped into the innermost chamber, he saw the swordsmech sprawled out in a berth, also having a ribbon bow knot tied around the waist.

‘Drift has the perfect hips, you know,’ Rodimus teased, ‘and you have the perfect -’

His voice trailed off as he noticed the Enforcer was not listening. Magnus scrutinised the hab suite, opticking the berth with Drift in it, the other berth which was vacant, and the Holomatter Console and Projector set at the corner of the chamber.

Rodimus knew his SIC was going to need some sweetening.

‘This is …’ Magnus’ face was hard to read. In fact, Magnus himself did not know how he felt, being introduced into this wholesome setup of absurdity.

Yes, Drift’s hips and Rodimus’ aft were definitely the kind of stuff that made it hard to keep your mind straight during working hours. Magnus got so good at keeping his evil thoughts in the darkest corner of his head he became rusty at seeking them out when the situation called for it. And make no mistake, his processor worked fast - the moment he set his optics on the Holomatter set he knew immediately what the two speedsters wanted. And the thought of it… An inneglectible urge rushed throughout his frame and caused his spike to start pressurising even beneath the cover.

‘Magnus?’ Rodimus started, tentative.

He was scooped up and placed into the empty berth.

Magnus walked over to the holomatter set. Within minutes’ time, he created an avatar for himself, OF HIMSELF.

‘Primus, I can’t tell which one’s the real Magnus.’ Drift was amazed. Brainstorm had obviously been improving the technology of it, for whatever good or unmentionable reasons.

Magnus activated the link and marched his avatar to Rodimus’ berth. He then deactivated it, and marched himself to Drift’s berth, before reactivating it again.

Here it went. The two Ultra Magni, identical in every aspect, perfectly synced in every move, were up and ready to satisfy the two of his all too eager lovers.

Magnus lifted Drift’s thighs to spread his legs apart. Then he caressed the curved hips a bit, earning himself a few pleasured moans. He moved on to fondle Drift’s finials and that was when Rodimus’ discontent was set off.

‘I don’t exactly know what you’re doing right now!’ Rodimus yelled at Magnus’ avatar.

Magnus then realised that none of the moves he had made so far had landed on Rodimus’ frame yet. The flame coloured speedster did not have such ample thighs, nor were his finials appended at the same angle. Magnus shifted his focus onto the avatar, trying to please Rodimus. Drift put up with Magnus’ servos tracing the air while he admired Rodimus’ high shoulders and, as he was trying to sit up, the kiss Magnus intended for Rodimus’ neck totally dented his cheek.

‘This is what I call a Rodimus plan!’ Drift laughed, ‘the idea was grand but the details won’t pan out.’

Rodimus shot him a glare. ‘Hey! At least I had the idea.’

Magnus thought for a moment. ‘I knew it would not turn out the way you wanted it to.’

‘How come you didn’t bring it up earlier?’

‘I had to respect my captain’s intentions.’

‘Aw…’

‘Anyway,’ Magnus straightened his frame up, ‘there’s a way. It’s quite obvious, though. I can lie down and - .’ Magnus was not comfortable with getting too verbal in such occasions.

Rodimus and Drift was quick to grasp it. They got out of the berths to allow Magnus and his avatar to get in. Once Magnus was flat on his back, he realised that this was not as simple as ‘pleasuring two lovers at once’. There were two of them and only one of him. His avatar would receive an equal amount of pleasure signals as his actual frame and that would be double into his processor. Things were probably going to go super fast. He was not even sure he could take it.

Magnus expressed his anxiety. And the responses -

Drift nodded and agreed that they should go slow.

Rodimus was very excited by his worries. ‘Oh, Mags, rest assured, we have patience for your refractory.’

Mildly upset, Magnus opened his mouth to demand, whereas it was quickly sealed with Rodimus’ hot kisses. The flame mech travelled his servos up and down Magnus’ frame, tugging and fondling, and all the time grinding his crotch into Magnus’ intimate panel armour. Skills are average, Magnus thought, but the passion… is almost uniquely Rodimus. He might even be in love - because whatever folly he would quickly dismiss was surprisingly plausible or even admirable if it was done by his spoilt-kid captain. Rodimus was clingy, blunt, single-function, and totally addictive.

The thoughts were interrupted when he felt his panel covers being coaxed open. Both front and underside. Magnus didn’t even know how Drift did it. Then there was this digit gently prying in.

‘No!’ Magnus growled. Because it actually hurt, even though Drift’s digits were small considering their size difference. Still, he would not easily make a move, since interacting with one speedster might toss the other off the berth.

‘...Sorry, Magnus. I just… I like valves very much.’ Drift blushed.

‘Heh,’ Rodimus chuckled, ‘confine that affection to mine and your own. Magnus must hate being touched there.’

‘Not really,’ Magnus corrected, ‘It’s just… It hurts when you get in there dry.’

Drift nodded.

A moment later, between Rodimus’ little squeezing moves on his massive spike, Magnus felt a wet glossa against the lips of his valve. Drift was kissing and licking it like no mech had ever done, with such sincere adoration, that Magnus felt the embarrassment of being pleasured there dissolve in a split second.

‘Hey you’re not planning on spiking Magnus, are you now, Drift?’ Rodimus raised his brow ridges.

‘I don’t know,’ Drift licked the smeared fluids off his lips, ‘it’s just… he’s so perfect. Every inch of him.’

Magnus never responded well to compliments. Not feeling upset by them was the best he could do, but this time he was pleased. Not pleased enough to present a smile, but close.

The avatar and the actual Magnus were in perfect sync. Even the fluids. Immediately after Rodimus made this discovery, he totally took advantage of it. He retracted his front panel armour and plunged his spike into Magnus with little warning, and was very glad that he was met with almost no resistance, as the preparation Drift had done on Magnus had sufficiently lubed the big mech up.

‘Rodimus, ‘ there was a certain degree of anger in Magnus’ voice.

‘Aw, don’t complain. My spike is much smaller than your valve, and I’m very rusty at spiking.’ Rodimus said.

‘Do you sometimes hear yourself?’ Drift commented.

Rodimus paid no mind. He was probably trying his best to handle the hard work with a mech who was considerably larger than he was, - and every trick he could think of utilising to uphold his ego when he found out that he was not hitting anything remotely good inside Magnus.

‘How d’you do this? You know, when you spike me,’ he frowned.

Drift would've laughed out loud had he not had his glossa stretched deep into Magnus' valve.

‘A little counsel from your Second, commander. If you cannot provide skills, at least maintain the courtesy of refraining from asking a question like that,’ Magnus was unimpressed.

And Drift was proving to be way ahead of Rodimus in the art of pleasing Magnus when he turned around to start easing himself onto Magnus’ spike, while bending over his frame to press his skillful digits into Magnus’ valve. Words failed Magnus’ processor at the expertise Drift displayed in digitting. Yes, it had just become a thing. Drift was so good at digitting. The speedster’s digits could not reach all that deep, of course, but they seemed to always knew their way around and just how much vigor was just enough. And Drift was sitting down, little by little, onto Magnus’ huge spike, biting back delicious little sounds trying to escape his vocaliser.

Once Drift had Magnus’ spike completely sheathed within himself, he leant back a little and slid open his own front panel. The white and red spike extended, curvy at first, gradually erect and bigger in size along with the process of pressurisation. Drift had had his other servo pressed against the berth surface to support his frame, and now it was obviously not enough as he clearly needed to have his own spike attended to as well.

‘Drift. Just sit back if you want to.’ Magnus was quick to understand. ‘I don’t need valve stimulation.’ It was a kind white lie, given how good it had been.

Drift pulled his digits away from Magnus’ valve and sat up. He wrapped both servos around his own spike as he started riding Magnus’ spike.

In the meanwhile, Rodimus apparently wasn’t making much progress. He got stuck trying to prove his spiking skills, much to Magnus’ dismay.

‘Rodimus,’ Magnus’ voice was breathy, Drift’s riding sending his processor too much pleasure for him to maintain his composure, ‘you…’

Rodimus was expecting some harsh criticism masquerading as advice, when it gradually came out this way,

‘You have the most enticing chassis, waist and aft. I always have a hard time trying to pull -mmh, my attention away from them. Uh… I have to focus on my work during the day, y- you know.’ This was a new strategy, Magnus knew to himself, to inspire Rodimus, the situation being that he could not easily move -otherwise he could have had Rodimus pinned down and evil things done to him despite how rusty Rodimus was at interacting with larger mechs in berth.

It worked. Rodimus perked up, optics twinkling. ‘Aw… Magnus.’ He was so sugared up. The captain pulled out of Magnus’ valve - much to his Second’s relief, circled halfway around the birth, and took Magnus’ spike in his mouth.

And Rodimus did it the Rodimus way. Final stage right up from the beginning. The pace was brutal.

On the other end, Drift had been riding for a while now, and the rhythm the swordsmech was dancing to was reasonably fast too.

‘Wait! - Oh -’ Magnus’ processor was sort of jammed with the waves of sensation as he got stuck mid-sentence, and the heat was accumulating super rapidly in his lower middle - he could feel it. The tide was rising steadily but much too fast to his liking.

On top of Magnus’ actual frame, Drift’s core temperature had already sparked up warnings in his HUD. In this state, something as innocuous as tracing a servo on his chassis might trigger an overload, his frame being hypersensitive from the constant friction in his valve. He only needed to pleasure his spike a little bit if he wished to go over.

Magnus was on the edge too. The only one who did not know what he was doing was Rodimus. And then Rodimus sucked at the tip of Magnus’ spike.

Magnus came with a throaty groan that almost sounded like a roar. He ejaculated so hard it got into Rodimus’ vents. Rodimus hopped up and down as he overclocked his vent system to get the fluids out. ‘Big guy, I’ll comm Ultra Magnus and have him arrest you for attempted homicide by asphyxiation - wait …’ (wait, you ARE Ultra Magnus. Well.)

Drift sent himself over the moment he felt Magnus come inside of him, having no reason not to. He roughed up his spike as he rode his valve against Magnus’ pulsating overload, and moaned out loud as his own overload took him.

For a moment all three were heavily venting (though for apparently different reasons).

  
Magnus deactivated the avatar. Rodimus was still on his tail. ‘I got no action on in the whole thing!’ he was displeased, his lips pouting.

Drift had drifted off into recharge. ‘Could you keep it down?’ Magnus frowned at Rodimus.

‘I haven’t been fragged yet!’

Magnus sighed. ‘Mind your language, captain.’

Rodimus only stopped pouting when a kiss was planted on his lips. He took Magnus’ spike in his servo. ‘Is there a particular reason for your not having placed it back into its housing?’

Magnus did not answer. He gently lifted Rodimus up and put him back into the berth. He started caressing from his face to chassis, to midsection, to hips and legs, relishing Rodimus’ mouth with his glossa the whole time. Rodimus had both panel covers retracted but he was not on. The kid was probably indeed a bit frustrated, Magnus thought. With one servo continuing touching Rodimus’ thighs and joints, Magnus held Rodimus’ spike between two huge digits, and pressed his thumb against its underside.

But then Rodimus always had his helm outside the box, and he did only one thing. Stuffing his digits into his own valve. Yet this was like some strange override code that always worked on Magnus. He could not resist it. Staring at the soft, wet folds with Rodimus’ own digits longingly moving in and out in there, Magnus felt another erection hit him like lightning and the truck-sized spike was definitely up for another round.

Rodimus yelped in surprise when his servo was shoved aside and his thighs were lifted and pressed against his chassis. His faceplates heated up.

‘You are just beautiful.’ Magnus complimented as his tip was eased into Rodimus’ entrance. Rodimus let out a whimper, and bit down on his lower lip. He looked at Magnus in anticipation.

‘Frag. You are making me nervous,’ he said.

‘I thought my commander lacked the faculty of nervousness,’ Magnus pressed in a little further.

‘Ah - ‘ Rodimus shuttered his optics and jerked his helm back. Magnus was penetrating at a slow, steady pace. He loved having Magnus in his valve. Hmmm. Just so.

Rodimus clung to the edges of the berth with both servos as Magnus started moving. Because his thighs were held up against his chassis and the interface was being commenced at a whole new angle as a result, it felt even more amazing than he had expected. ‘Ah, frag… Magnus, just, ...ah….aaaaaah,’ Rodimus began his incomprehensible mumbles and that was how Magnus knew it was good for Rodimus. He picked up the pace.

When the speed of the action was moderately fast, Rodimus was already moaning like a turbofox in heat. It was so good. The speedster’s spike was sliding up and down against his abdomen and the bio-lights glittering from the friction, and it was as hard as adamant the way he could feel it. Magnus’ huge spike had worked up every sensor inside his valve and the gradually more powerful thrusts got his frame oversensitised and his processor dizzy.

As Magnus went from moderately fast to finalising fast, he was having a hard time holding back too. Rodimus’ valve squeezed him tight, as usual, the moaning and squirming adding extra audial and visual sensations, and each of the moves was driving him towards explosion.

‘M...Magnus,’ Rodimus unshuttered his optics and called out shakily, ‘five.’

‘Hmmm?’ Magnus’ processor was swimming as he kept pounding into Rodimus full force.

‘F..four,’ Rodimus whimpered. He seemed to be counting down. Magnus got it now.

‘Three.’

Magnus started a brutal pace.

‘Ah - ah… Magnus… ah, two,’ Rodimus bit his lip.

‘One.’ Magnus’ ammo was ready at the base of his spike. Rodimus had his fists around his own as well.

‘Zero! Aaaaaaaaaaaaah - ‘ ‘Unhggg -’

Perfect sync it was. Even using an avatar had proven awkward but this. They knew what each other wanted. Both frames trembled as overload swept through, and for a brief moment, electricity could be seen travelling across their armour.

  
As venting finally slowed down, Magnus licked his own face clean with his glossa. ‘I had the idea that you took your time to aim at my face?’

Rodimus affected an evil grin. ‘Yes, definitely. What are you going to do about it? Frag me?’

Magnus straightened his face. ‘I think I’m going to try the opposite. I’m going to try not fragging you.’

‘Aw! Please! Magnus!’

Magnus was chuckling when he walked out of the door. CHUCKLING. He had not known he could do that.


End file.
